


PR Nightmare

by Eloeehez



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Family Bonding, Gen, Good Bro Tommy Merlyn, Nosy Reporters, Post-Episode: s01e09, Protective Moira Queen, Protective Thea Queen, Season/Series 01, Sort of Scar Reveal, Supportive John Diggle, breach of privacy, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:01:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25405822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eloeehez/pseuds/Eloeehez
Summary: Oliver landing himself in the hospital has drawn media curiosity once again. One reporter gets close to a nurse, looking for a scoop and gets more than he imagined. Scar-reveal-ish.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 41





	1. All The News Unfit to Print

**Author's Note:**

> This little short idea hit me one day and I have worked on editing it to the point I can post it finally. Un-beta’d because I haven’t really been able to find someone. I’m going to call it a short because it will end up being 2 ish chapters. Maybe 3. But not long.

“It’s time to get famous,” Jason Kroutin announced to his laptop, giddily waiting for the old machine to start.

Smirking to himself, Jason sat down to write his way into the journalism big leagues. Although he currently worked for a small-time gossip rag, he knew his true talent exceeded any of his two-bit trash-columnist coworkers. He deserved to work for a National Chain. This story, this was The One.

Pondering the opening, Jason decided that the readers needed to know just how much effort he put into digging up this story. 

_For weeks I have been working tirelessly to find the truth for our loyal readers, and after much investigative work, I finally have it._

Yes, that would do. It had, after all, taken days to finally find a nurse at Starling General willing to get coffee with him. Charming his way into more dates from there had taken little effort for a man of his caliber. Waiting, now that had been the hard part, but his “Jared” persona had been nothing short of a perfect gentleman. Wining and dining turned into evenings on her couch and then into pillow talk.

_Sources from inside Starling General have shared information that is shocking and deeply buried, even amongst the staff._

Sweet, naive little Emily Rose; fresh out of school, first year on the job at Starling General and looking for her happily ever after. Unfortunately, she was about to learn the ways of the world. Nothing personal, but his scoop was worth it. 

_As our loyal readers know, last month Oliver Queen crashed his motorcycle, landing himself in the hospital. While his injuries are healing, another few scars will be added to his ever growing collection._

And that had been the kicker. Between trying to get some juicy gossip on the crash and pretending he would keep anything she shared secret, Emily told him so much more. Oliver Queen was a scarred man, likely never to be photographed without a shirt again. Jason had to stop himself from jumping up and writing the moment she said that. Instead he feigned casual interest and got MORE.

Jason recalled that moment with a smile.

~*~*~*~

_“Wait, you mean Queen actually has scars?” He had asked as they lay in her bed, all the while he kept staring at the ceiling to mask the giddy curl of his lip. All he wanted at the start was a little inside information; something juicy like drugs or alcohol to contradict the press release. This on the other hand was a whole new ball game._

_“A lot, really.” She murmured back, tucked against his side, eyes half closed in contentment._

_“I can’t imagine that he wouldn’t get plastic surgery for them.”_

_“I don’t think it can help anymore. They are pretty old and some are pretty bad.” Emily actually sounded like she pitied the spoiled jackass._

_“The doctors screwed up that bad?” He feigned shock, digging deeper still. Jason wanted details and her innocent trust was an excellent weapon._

_“Don’t say anything, but I think they happened there.” Emily lowered her voice so she was almost whispering. “You know, on that island where he was stranded? There are a lot of scars… ones that never showed in pictures from before.”_

_“A lot? You mean like covering half his body?” Already he could see the headlines, ‘Disfigured Billionaire - A Playboy No More’. Yes, that would do._

_“It’s more around 20%, but still. Most are easily hidden under his clothes anyway. The burns...cuts. And his x-rays. There are breaks that just never healed right. I can’t imagine what those years must have been like. He must have had to figure out how to treat his own wounds,” murmured Emily as she shook her head, melancholy fading to anxiety in a moment. “You can’t say anything about this, promise? I’m not supposed to share these things…” ___

_“Hey, baby, I promise. You know that.” Verbally he reassured her while mentally he shrugged. Jared had promised her, but_ Jason _hadn’t. Once he got home, to his real home, he would cancel his temporary phone, end his lease, and forget she ever existed._

~*~*~*~

_Sources say that a little more than 20% of the Queen Heirs’ body is covered in scars from his time as a Tom Hanks character, most of which show evidence of being treated by the man himself. Such details of his time as a Castaway have been kept secret until now, including the fact that he has been so horribly disfigured. Hospital sources also suggest that he has his share of poorly healed broken bones from that island._

Smugly satisfied with his incredible writing, Jason decided to throw a little hook to the Queens themselves. An interview would be an excellent follow up, and if he made the readers believe that the rich family had brushed him off the first time, he could spin it as an apology as well. It wasn’t like he really would reach out to them, especially since it would give them a chance to bury his story.

_While we have been unable to contact the Queens for a comment, this reporter hopes that Mr. Queen will be open to interviews at a later date. As of now we can only speculate on what befell him in those 5 years._

Frowning a bit, Jason wished he could have gotten some pictures of Queen’s scars from the hospital but it looked like he would have to settle for a quick photoshop job. He would make them slightly blurry, having just enough lack of detail to ensure some people believed them.

Tomorrow evening he would slip it into the print rotation using his Editor’s logins. Madeline still had no idea he only wooed her for her passwords. She really was an airhead.

He would make a name for himself and enter the big leagues soon. Who cared about a few crushed hearts along the way.


	2. Snowballing Through the Grapevine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the story hits the newsfeeds, it goes viral before the Queens even find out about it. Now the question becomes: how do we fix this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews and kudos! I decided to post this bit as one chapter as I had no good reason to split it up. Also, I realized I forgot to tag Mentions of Torture, so I added that as well for this chapter.

The article itself was published without fanfare on Tuesday morning, and passed mostly under the radar at first. _Edgeline_ was not known as the most controversial gossip rag out there, and most everyone knew it. That fact was also what drew attention to the story.

At first, only loyal customers bought the new edition or saw it on the webpage. Slowly, they began to spread it further. Links popped up on Facebook and Twitter, although most people discredited it due to the source.

At least until _Scandal-Lust_ saw the article in the late afternoon and called the hospital for a comment.

When the Starling General PR Department saw the article, they offered up a solid No Comment before opening an investigation. The magazine publishers took that as a tacit confirmation and put out their own article, complete with confirmation from the hospital.

Snowballing from there, it began to draw attention from everyone. The next day the Queen Consolidated Media Department found out about it when WEBG called for a comment. Their efforts to scramble and get the whole thing under control was thwarted by the realization that Starling General already released a statement.

The Starling General statement indicated that they were conducting an investigation into the leak within the hospital and the individual would face consequences for violating HIPPA laws. Everyone, news related or not, saw this as corroborating evidence. Unfortunately, Queen Consolidated could no longer put a lid on the story and instead began to focus on damage control. Their only remaining option was to minimize exposure while also drawing the Legal Department into the battle. True or not, healthcare laws had been violated and Oliver would be the one suffering for it.

That night, as Oliver prepared to head over Verdant to train, Thea called him into the sitting room. Instantly on high alert due to her panicky tone, Oliver all but ran into the room, scanning for danger. 

One hand clasped over her mouth, Thea silently pointed to the TV where the news was covering the story.

_In a statement released by Starling General, the hospital assures us that this breach of HIPPA will be investigated and all involved parties will be disciplined severely. Regardless of the hospital’s findings in this case, many are expressing concern over what other information may have been released. While Mr. Queen’s fame has obviously had a bearing on this bringing this breach to light, no one can comment on how many other patients may also have been compromised. Our medical correspondent, Valerie, has more._

The screen split to show the two anchors before focusing solely on the on-site reporter.

_That’s right. I’m here, outside of Starling General, where droves of patients have come to question the security of their medical records. Unfortunately, due to the state of the records and privacy laws, we have been unable to get any detailed information about the breach from the hospital itself, although we can draw a few conclusions based on what we have seen so far._

_At this point, many have already seen the articles, which we will not detail here, but the most reassuring aspect of them is that there are no real pictures attached. The ones that have cropped up have been identified as fakes, so we believe the information leaked was either text only or by word of mouth. Regrettably, this fact does nothing to allay the fears, nor does it change the fact that Mr. Queen’s privacy has been intensely violated. Back to you._

When the news switched back to the familiar anchor, Thea punched the off button, tears streaking down her face.

“Thea?” Rasped Oliver, his voice cracking slightly as his mind raced. This wasn’t a scenario he had a contingency plan for. He may not have an issue with his scars but they were not meant for the world to see.

“God, Ollie!” Thea sobbed, hurrying over to wrap him in her arms, tucking her face into his chest. “Why can’t people just leave us alone!”

“It’ll be okay,” Oliver murmured, wrapping her up tightly in his arms.

“No! You don’t understand, Ollie, it’s already gone viral! Every scummy tabloid already released articles with fake pictures, and…”

“It will be okay, Thea.” Oliver reassured her again, ignoring his own anxiety. It didn’t sit well with him that he hadn’t even known about this story until now. Sweeping his gaze around the room Oliver frowned. “Does Mom know?”

Thea shook her head sadly, not moving it from his chest. He realized that she probably hadn’t come out of her room much, if at all, today. On the positive side, she probably wasn’t aware of this...disaster. The negative was that Oliver would have to figure out how to handle the media storm himself.

After a few more minutes, Thea stopped crying so he peeled her off, looking her in the eye.

“I need to make a few calls. Will you be okay?” He asked, studying the tired face of the young woman his sister had become.

She gave him a shaky nod, wiping a few remaining tears off her face.

“You know where to find me if you need to,” Oliver reassured her before heading back up to his room, mentally prioritizing a to-do list. Still, he had a sinking feeling that all they could manage would be damage control at this point.

~*~*~

By the time dinner rolled around, Oliver was exhausted. He spent hours on the phone with the Queen Consolidated PR team, legal team, and board of directors. They eventually agreed upon a course of action, one that was workable but distasteful. He would have to give an interview to a reputable source or release a full press statement.

Diggle and Tommy both tried to contact him while he was on those conference calls. Since he didn’t pick up, the two men made their way over to the house. Diggle arrived first, nearly kicking in Oliver’s door when he did not answer it immediately. Once he realized that there was no danger, Digg then redirected Tommy to sit with Thea while he tried to be available for Oliver.

While he was on the phone, Oliver took a few moments to begin researching the articles, working to trace them back to the original publisher. Legal came to much the same conclusion as he did, that this Jason Kroutin was the source. Unfortunately, neither himself nor the QC team could find a link between that slime ball and Starling General. Yet.

It was too late in the day to go to QC and find Felicity. She would likely be at home by now but perhaps in the morning Digg could go ask her to find some way to connect Jason with Starling General. And maybe exact a little digital vengeance upon him. Or a lot of digital vengeance.

Standing slowly, Oliver shuffled his way down to the dining room. More uncomfortable conversations awaited, but he did not have a good reason to delay them any longer.

Dinner had already been served by the time he got to the dining room. Everyone was already there, including his mother, and Diggle stood guard by the door as usual. Oliver had yet to convince the man to sit and eat with them, although Raisa usually had something in the kitchen for him after the meal.

Slumping into his chair, Oliver slowly began picking at his food, waiting to see who would open the conversation.

“Ollie?” Thea’s voice was soft and hesitant in a way he hadn’t heard in almost a decade. He tried to offer her a brittle smile, but he could tell it did nothing to comfort her. “Did you…what did you...find out?”

“There’s...it’s gone too far to just...cover it.” He informed them softly, hearing the weariness in his own voice. “At this point, the only idea is a press release or...an interview.”

“No!” Spat Thea vehemently half rising from her chair. “They can’t think the solution to this invasion of privacy is to, to invade it even more!”

“It’s the only way,” rebutted Oliver as calmly as he could. “There are so many lies out there right now, the only way to fix it is if it comes from me.”

“So we figure out how to say the least amount possible while still satisfying the masses.” Concluded Tommy solemnly.

“I will have someone from the PR department come out tomorrow and help you draft a statement,” their mother finally spoke up, firm and committed. It was a shocking but nice turn of events, to see her engaging again.

“You’re going to the office?” Oliver asked, just to be sure.

“Yes. Thea and I talked, and I need to step up until Walter...until he’s found.” Moira stated, only faltering slightly on the mention of their missing family member. “And I will not stand for those media vultures coming after my family.”

Oliver could see a little but of her usual fire resurfacing.

“I’m sure once everyone hears how boring scars really are, they will move on.” Slipping his carefree mask into place, Oliver tried to throw himself back into his role as Ollie.

“You don’t seriously expect us to buy that crap, do you?” Questioned Thea incredulously, pointing her fork at him. “Come on, Ollie. I’ve seen the scars and I know the difference between scraped on a rock and _those_.”

In his tired state Thea’s blunt words blindsided him. The abrupt memory of Wintergreen’s blade had him flinching back from the table. Standing, he made to leave the room with a rushed ‘I don’t wanna talk about it’, only to be stopped by Diggle.

“I know this isn’t what you had in mind,” Diggle murmured just loud enough for Oliver to hear, “but you’ve been wanting to be there for your family. Maybe it’s time for a little bit of truth, Oliver. You don’t have to give details, but if you lie now, you’re back to square one with them.”

Dragging the sluggish edges of his thoughts together, Oliver took a moment to consider his options. On one hand, Diggle had a point. Since Christmas his goal had become truly supporting and reconnecting with his family and friends. On the other hand, he never intended for them to know any of this, beyond his carefully concocted stories.

“It doesn’t have to be too revealing, especially if it could lead to other things. Just enough to give them an olive branch. They want to be there for you, Oliver. Maybe it’s time to let them.” Diggle reassured, pushing his point while he had an opening.

Hesitantly Oliver stepped back to the table. What he told Laurel months ago hadn’t really been a lie. As much as he didn’t want people to connect him to the Hood, he also didn’t want everyone to look at him pityingly, like he was damaged goods. Glancing around the table, he knew blasé stories would not work. Perhaps before Thea’s outburst he could have brushed it off, but since she had both seen his scars and called him on it here his choices were limited. Not that his reaction had helped, so now anything less than a few truths would leave a shadow of doubt in their minds.

“Oliver?”Moira spoke, her voice sounding much as it had that first night back: hesitant and worried, yet hopeful.

No one dared breathe in the stifling silence while Oliver worked out what to say. This was something he just didn’t talk about. Couldn’t talk about, except in the barest of terms. No matter what he said, he knew there would be questions. Invasive and insensitive questions that he never wanted to have to answer. Hopefully at least for now they would hold them in.

“Lian Yu is a closed island.” Oliver began, fixing his gaze on the far wall. He could do this. “No one is supposed to be there, which means it attracts...mercenaries, mostly.” Digging his nails into his palms, Oliver struggled to come up with the right phrasing. “They didn’t believe I was just a shipwrecked rich kid; didn’t even care about a reward.”

“What are you saying?” Tommy asked softly, sounding almost afraid of the answer.

Coaching himself mentally, he focused on just spitting the words out.

“They tortured me.” The words slipped through his lips and crackled into the air, stilling everyone around him. Oliver kept his eyes focused on the wall, not wanting to see the reactions around him. Diggle always knew, even if he never said the words out loud. The rest of his family though, they were wild cards and he couldn’t be sure how they would react anymore.

Silence stretched and he decided to risk a glance around the table. He was met with various expressions of shock, sorrow, and oddly enough, anger. Tearing his eyes away, Oliver stood, intent on making a hasty exit again. The air was too thin for him, the walls too close. Another chair pushed back and light footsteps closed in on him quickly before he could reach the door. 

“I’m so sorry!” Exclaimed Thea, throwing her arms around him from behind. Oliver stiffened, bracing himself for just the type of reaction he had been hoping to avoid. “You didn’t want to talk about it and I pushed and, God, I’m a terrible sister. I’m so sorry, Ollie. I should have just kept my mouth shut.”

Oliver couldn’t help but be both baffled by and grateful for Thea. Once again she surprised him, reacting in a way he hadn’t expected at all. Twisting around without breaking her hold, he hesitantly brought his arms up around her in return.

After a few moments he dragged his eyes back to the now silent table. Tommy sat silently studying his plate, seemingly deep in thought while his mother studied him with a sort of furious sorrow.

“Mom?” He asked in a cracked and brittle voice.

“I could have had you back years ago if those...those _bastards_ had just believed you,” she spat, eyes flashing with a mother’s rage.

Blinking in the force of her wrath, Oliver’s shoulders eased down minutely. Her wrath wasn’t aimed at him, she was outraged at them for keeping the family apart. Years had dulled his own anger, especially once he had drowned it in the relief of Fryer’s death. 

Tommy still stayed silent, and Oliver could imagine too many variations of what he must be thinking.

~*~*~

After their impromptu sharing session, Oliver bowed out as soon as he could. Even knowing his mother and Thea weren’t reacting badly he found himself unable to stay. That quiet itch in the back of his mind drove him to seek solitude quickly. He needed to center himself, to push it all back into a box.

Once in his room, Oliver found himself pacing, unsure of what to do with himself since he wasn’t hooding up and taking out the corrupt. There was the Club, but since all of the contractors were long gone for the night, there wasn’t much else he could do in that regard either. As such, he found himself merely pacing; his mind far from quiet.

A soft knock drew his attention to the door. As many times as he asked, his family had never truly seemed to respect that. Perhaps until now. Opening it, he was surprised to find Tommy on the other side. He would have expected his friend to have left and he felt a stab of guilt at the fact he didn’t know Tommy was still there. Since his return, he hadn’t managed to quite rekindle his old hosting manners.

“Tommy.” He greeted, ushering the other man in. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were still here. I probably should have, shouldn’t I?” Oliver tried to keep his tone light, faking the Ollie his friend most likely expected.

“Oliver, don’t. You don’t have to...you don’t have to pretend. To be Ollie.” Huffing a short sigh, Tommy ran a hand over his hair. “Shit. Man, I suck at this. To be honest, I was shocked. I didn’t expect, well, any of that. But I should have known better than to think you had it easy, like some vacation. I should have known you better. I’m sorry, Oliver. I’ve been a really bad best friend.” He looked gutted at the admission, guilt and anguish clear in his eyes. 

“No, you haven’t, it’s not on you, Tommy.” Oliver responded to him, wishing he hadn’t been the one to put that look on his best friend. “I didn’t want anyone to know, so I tried to convince everyone I was the same Ollie who left.”

“Died,” corrected Tommy automatically, grimacing at his thoughtless comment.

“Died.” Agreed Oliver solemnly. “My point is, I wasn’t ready to talk about it. I’m still not, but since Christmas I decided to try harder. For my family. And for my friends.”

“You are, and we noticed.”

Awkward silence followed, neither male really wanting to get too mushy or emotional.

“If it weren’t for all of this gossip crap I would say let’s go get drunk, but instead we just may have to go watch a movie. Or something else appropriately, you know, us.” Tommy blurted out, looking ready to go throw himself out of the window over talking.

“Yeah, yeah,” Agreed Oliver quickly, glad to leave the heavy conversations for never.

~*~*~

As he sat on the couch next to Thea, Oliver decided that watching himself on TV would never stop being bizarre. Between him and his mother, they found a suitable candidate for an interview and arranged it as soon as possible. Working with Diggle, Oliver had come up with a script that was both mundane and ridiculously believable. That particular realization made him wonder why he had rejected the idea of Thea knowing he could run fast enough to catch a motorcycle in the right conditions. All he would have had to do was explain it as a survival tactic, catching prey or something. Mentally shaking it off, he refocused on the TV.

As the interview progressed, he watched ‘Ollie’ spin the tale of a bumbling billionaire stranded on a desolate island, gaining scars through his own ineptitude. While it was a good cover for his public image, Oliver mentally cringed. It was a good tale that totally ignored the reality of survival and the bleak truths of the island. Hopefully Diggle was right and the interview would cause interest to wane soon. He wasn’t doing that again.

“Well, I would say that went well,” his mother spoke up as the interview ended.

“You really sold that line of crap,” Agreed Thea, smirking at him.

“Glad you think I did well, Sis.” Oliver snarked back, smirking in return.

“The point is, the media vultures should back off, now that the story is old and boring.” Reassured Moira as she stood, smoothing down her skirt. “Not to mention the imbecile who started this.”

“What did you do to him?” Question Oliver curiously. He hoped she buried the man in lawsuits until he was poorer than dirt.

“Yeah, what did you do?” Thea chimed in, focusing on her mother as well.

“Let’s say he learned a very valuable lesson about going after my children.” Deflected Moira before she left the room.

“I take that to mean she buried him as deep as the Grand Canyon,” Thea remarked, a smirk tilting the corner of her lips.

“Maybe even deeper,” acquiesced Oliver, sharing a quick grin with Thea.

Their mother could definitely be fearsome when she needed to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome.


End file.
